Where the Dawn Doesn't Break
by Penga
Summary: Yami is trapped within a dark, crushing void, the weight of guilt and regret bearing down on him. When his deepest fear takes root in reality, the broken pharaoh is offered a permanent outlet.
1. Paramount Loss

**Where the Dawn Doesn't Break**

**Chapter One: Paramount Loss**

"_I was just guessing at numbers and figures_

_Pulling the puzzles apart_

_Questions of science, science and progress_

_Do not speak as loud as my heart."_

_

* * *

  
_

Yami took pause to admire his work. He had carved the form of the Egyptian god Anubis from a block of ebony, and the finished product was about half a foot tall. Despite the statue's small size, it was beautifully ornate and teeming with meticulous detail. Anubis' pupils were hollowed out of his eyes, his dog-like hands sported tiny claws, and his robes were decorated with complex patterns and tiny hieroglyphs. Yami gingerly placed the relic on top of Yugi's dresser and fondly recalled the conversation that had driven him to create the piece in the first place.

"_Hello Aibou," Yami greeted as his hikari returned home after classes. The usually stoic spirit offered a warm smile that was reserved for Yugi alone._

"_Hi Yami," the young boy returned. "You might be surprised to hear that World History was actually interesting today."_

"_Oh?" the former pharaoh prompted._

"_Yeah, today was the start of a three-day lecture over ancient Egypt. The professor talked about the various Egyptian gods and their roles in the afterlife. It was all very intriguing."_

_Yami reclined on the bed, allowing a pleased grin to spread across his face. _

"_I appreciate that you take so much interest in my past, Aibou. So which god is your favorite?"_

_Yugi pondered this question for a moment. His huge violet irises rolled upward and he rested his chin in his hands as he thought._

"_Well," he began, "there are several cool ones. I like Ra since he was such an integral part of Egyptian society, being the sun god and all. Osiris' story is neat too, how he was chopped up into several pieces that had to be gathered back together by his lover. But I guess my favorite would have to be Anubis."_

"_Anubis?" Yami confirmed. "Why Anubis? He's a rather dark god. He _does_ monitor the gates to the underworld."_

"_Yes," Yugi agreed, "but he is not evil. He has scales to measure the weight or worth of a person's soul, but he's very fair. He is dark, sure, but a just ruler. He doesn't misuse his power." Here Yugi paused and looked up at Yami shyly. _

"_He reminds me of you, I suppose."_

Yami checked the time. It was already past three, and he anticipated Yugi would be back at any moment. The spirit felt silly, almost childish, at the excitement that bubbled within him as he imagined Yugi's face upon seeing the carved statue for the first time. Yami collapsed on the bed and marveled at his cut and calloused hands. It had been excruciating to keep his little project a secret for the two weeks it took him to fashion the tiny relic. He could hardly wait for his hikari to get home from classes.

The time dragged on. Five minutes, ten, fifteen. Thirty minutes passed and Yugi still hadn't returned. Yami kept waiting for the young boy to burst into his room, throw down his backpack, and begin babbling about school, yet the room maintained an almost depressing silence in Yugi's absence. Growing concerned, the former pharaoh descended the stairs to ask Mr. Mutou if he had heard from his grandson. The spirit was halfway down when it happened.

A mental snap. A sudden break. The mind link was severed.

Emptiness flooded Yami's heart. He no longer felt a connection to Yugi. The shock overwhelmed him to the point that he involuntarily dropped to his knees, trembling, before tumbling the rest of the way down the stairs. There was a void, a crushing pressure within Yami's chest. He just didn't feel whole anymore.

Grandpa Mutou, curious as to what was causing such a racket, rounded the corner of the living room to find Yami lying in a crumpled heap, eyes wide, drenched in cold sweat. The elder rushed to the spirit's side, clutched his shoulders, and carefully helped him to his feet.

"Yami, are you feverish?"

"Solomon," Yami responded in a dread tone, "something is very wrong. Yugi must be in danger."

The elder put on a nervous smile and averted his gaze.

"Come now, there's no need to worry. Sometimes Yugi goes home with Jounouchi or else stays at the arcade for a while after school. You shouldn't be jumping to conclu…"

_Rrriiiing!_

The telephone cut him off.

_Rrriiiing!_

To Yami, each resounding ring sounded eerily like a death toll.

_Rrriiiing!_

Solomon bowed to excuse himself from the tense conversation before crossing the threshold to answer the phone.

"Hello and thank you for choosing Kame Game Shop where we have just received a new supply of…"

"Is this Mr. Solomon Mutou?"

The elder shifted uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. Clearly whoever called was not the least bit interested in cards.

"It is. How may I help you?"

The nameless voice on the other end of the line sighed heavily before continuing.

"This is Deputy Carson with the Domino City Police Department. Your grandson is Yugi Mutou, isn't he?"

Deputy Carson was stalling.

"Yes, I am Yugi's grandfather. He _is_ alright, isn't he? Why are you calling?"

Silence. It was excruciating. Solomon began to sweat. Yami was glaring intently at the receiver as if it would make the reply come any quicker.

"I hate to be the one to tell you this Mr. Mutou, but I'll just come out and say it. Your grandson was a passenger in a taxi that was run off the road by what we expect was a drunk driver. By the time paramedics arrived on the scene, the gas tank was punctured and the cab had been on fire for at least 15 minutes. Considering the pressure and heat of the blaze, there was really no chance for survival. Both the driver and your grandson were killed, I'm afraid. The alleged drunkard who ran them off the road has yet to be caught, but we have eyewitnesses who claim to have seen the license plate number."

Solomon was speechless. His pupils dilated and his heartbeat raced as he tried to comprehend what he had just heard.

"But my boy…" the elder whimpered.

"I'm afraid all that was left besides the bare metal frame of the car was a belt buckle and a gold pyramid necklace. I am deeply sorry. I can assure you that the perpetrator will be promptly caught and arrested. In the meantime, would you like the buckle and necklace delivered to your house? I'm afraid it's the best we can do right now."

"Yes. Yes, that's fine," Solomon replied in a monotonous voice. He was still in shock.

"I will have someone deliver the items immediately. Again, I am sorry for your loss. If you have any further questions just give us a call. Goodnight, Mr. Mutou."

_Click._

_Beep, beep, beep, beep…_

Solomon didn't move. The receiver dropped from his frozen palm and hung suspended from its cord, swaying back and forth, back and forth, like a convict in a noose.

_Beep, beep, beep, beep…_

"Solomon," Yami whispered. "What happened? Where is Yugi?"

The elder looked up, gazed at Yami detachedly like he was some sort of zoo animal, then began shaking violently. He slid to the floor and started sobbing between his shriveled fingertips.

"No," Yami muttered. "No, no, no, no, no. Not Yugi. Please Solomon, please tell me otherwise."

The elder Mutou slowly met Yami's piercing glare, and the ensuing silence was the spirit's answer. It was confirmation of Yami's worst fear.

Sweet, innocent, little Yugi was dead.


	2. A Morbid Proposition

**Where the Dawn Doesn't Break**

**Chapter Two: A Morbid Proposition**

"_Nobody said it was easy_

_It's such a shame for us to part_

_Nobody said it was easy_

_No one ever said it would be this hard_

_Oh, take me back to the start."_

_

* * *

  
_

Crisp autumn leaves in warm hues of auburn and crimson floated to the ground at Yami's feet. For as bright as the sun was shining, the air was bitterly cold. Yami thrust his hands further into his pea coat. He hated the atmosphere. He hated the situation. He hated _himself_.

It was all very modest. _Too _modest for Yami's liking. A generic picture of Yugi sat on a wire stand and loomed over the small gathering. There were quaint little wreathes scattered about composed of common flowers in every color. Yellow, like his bangs. Purple, like his eyes. White, like his…

'Like his heart,' Yami thought to himself. Yugi had been the very model of purity, a pillar of support to any who had known him, and a faultless perpetuator of good will.

Yami looked with dread to the rectangular footstone squashed between plots belonging to "Mira Mutou" and "Gabrial Mutou," presumably Yugi's late parents. The small marble slab infuriated the former pharaoh. He felt that his hikari's memory should be honored by a grand, architecturally stunning monument – a statue of sorts that could convey to others how loved and wonderful Yugi had been.

Yami hated it all. He hated the defiantly beautiful weather. He hated the squat, elderly priest clad in dusty black robes. He hated Anzu's echoing sobs, and Solomon's empty eyes. He hated the way Jounouchi stood, with his head down, allowing his shaggy blonde hair to shield his face. Yami hated the soft, cliché encouragements that Ryou offered to his friends. Most of all, the broken pharaoh hated that he had failed. In his only gods-given duty, he had utterly failed. His charge, his hikari, his only reason for existing, had burned to death, trapped within a shitty little cab.

Yami clenched his fists as the ceremony began.

The priest opened a book and read excerpts aloud that were likely meant to be uplifting, but clearly didn't have the desired effect. Everyone present was simply going through the motions deemed appropriate by society. Nobody _wanted_ to be there. Everyone, instead, probably wanted to be alone, to mourn in solidarity. After mulling over some stock quotes and optimistic ideals concerning death and the hereafter, the priest bowed his head and motioned for Solomon to approach the gravestone.

The elder Mutou ambled to the front of the presentation with a striking glass vase in his trembling hands. Within the transparent urn was a small pile of ash which Solomon carefully scattered over Yugi's marble slab. The emotionally spent old man turned to his audience with sorrowful eyes.

"The deputy recovered some ash from the site so… well, it was the best I could do. As you know, there wasn't a lot left of… of _him," _Solomon said hoarsely. Anzu squeaked in horror.

"But," the elder Mutou continued, "we need to focus on his _memory_ right now. Even though Yugi can't be with us physically anymore, we need to keep him alive in our hearts."

Solomon paused and his shoulders slumped forward in defeat.

"It's just… I feel that it was before his time. He was just out of high school and… and…"

The elderly man lost his composure, and the tears loosed themselves from his tired eyes. Jounouchi stepped forward and gently ushered the man away. The priest, his duty served, sputtered a few quick and impersonal words of comfort before hurriedly shuffling toward his centuries-old Cadillac.

No one spoke to Yami. No one could bear to even look at him. It was too painful to see the dead boy reflected in the pharaoh's nearly identical appearance. And those eyes, to see those cold, indomitable eyes on the countenance of their closest friend was too much for any of them to tolerate. Yugi's gaze had always been soft and tender, a sharp contrast to the former pharaoh's cold, unwavering stare.

Yami looked away, silently glad that the ceremony was over. He mulled over Solomon's words.

"_As you know, there wasn't a lot left of… of _him."

Just a belt buckle and the Millennium Puzzle, according to Deputy Carson.

It didn't make sense to Yami. He wasn't particularly versed in the ways of physics, but it seemed that the temperatures needed to completely burn a human body in such a short amount of time would more than decimate the malleable gold of the Millennium Puzzle. And there would have been nothing left of a mere belt buckle, likely composed of metal as common as stainless steel. Furthermore, why hadn't the incident been covered by local television stations? Where were the newspaper articles? The hospital papers? Why had Yugi taken a cab when he usually just walked home? Had anybody actually _met_ Deputy Carson?

Yami was uneasy. He felt the slightest tinge of hope well within his core, a sensation that had become so foreign to him since the day of that dreaded phone call. He approached Solomon and laid a hand on the elderly man's shoulder as he hovered over his grandson's gravestone.

"Solomon, may I speak with you for a moment?" Yami questioned softly.

The elderly man turned around and regarded the former pharaoh with tortured eyes.

"Solomon," Yami began, "does any of this strike you as odd? That the fire didn't destroy the puzzle, or that Yugi took a cab instead of walking like he normally does, or that…"

"Yami," the elder interjected, "just… just let it go. This isn't some puzzle for you to solve. My boy is gone, and now I just need to rest and recuperate." Solomon sighed and gave the pharaoh an intense stare.

"Perhaps you should find another place to stay," the elder Mutou muttered, almost ashamedly. "It's just that… well, you look almost identical to him. I would feel that I was being haunted."

Yami stepped back in indignation. Solomon saw the hurt he had dealt, perhaps unfairly, and tried in vain to console the man who he had just turned onto the streets. The elderly reached into his pocket and pulled out the contents of his wallet – approximately two hundred dollars.

"Here," the elder Mutou insisted as he held the bills under Yami's nose. "It's not much, but you can use this as a start to find a home elsewhere."

"No, Solomon," Yami muttered through clenched teeth. "I do not need your money."

With that, the dark spirit turned and left, the chilling breeze causing his coat to billow out to the side. From a distance he looked like the grim reaper, floating ethereally over the graves of his victims.

By the time Yami reached the Domino park, the sun was setting, transforming the sky into a vivid display of bright, almost otherworldly, magenta and violet hues. He collapsed by a tiny stream and rested his head against the trunk of an aged willow, watching, mesmerized, as the chains of leaves danced back and forth in the breeze. He and Yugi had spent so many evenings in that very spot since the separation of their bodies, just relishing the tranquil environment and engaging in deep, tender conversations as the running water trickled over pebbles and between clay ridges.

* * *

"_Yami?" Yugi questioned meekly, running his fingers through the clear waters of the creek._

"_Yes, aibou?" the former pharaoh responded in a soft tone._

"_If you could wish for absolutely anything, and your wish would come true, what would it be?"_

_Yami shuffled about nervously. He didn't like such revealing questions._

"_Aibou, that is a very broad question…"_

"_Oh, come on," Yugi teased. "Is it too much for the big tough emotionless pharaoh to handle?"_

_Yami rolled his eyes._

"_Yugi, I just don't put a lot of thought into empty scenarios."_

"_Just answer the question," Yugi prompted in an uncharacteristically authoritative tone. Yami sighed, defeated, and raised a slender hand to his forehead in contemplation._

"_Well," the former pharaoh began, "I suppose I would wish for strength."_

"_Strength?" Yugi inquired. "Really? For someone who was complaining about how 'broad' my question was, that's a pretty generic answer. What do you need strength for?"_

"_I would wish for the strength _you_ possess, Yugi, to know how to make level decisions even when I'm cornered. I would wish for the strength to remain sane when faced with tragedy. Most importantly, I would wish for the strength to protect _you_ in any situation."_

_Yugi was speechless. He marveled up at his darker half with the same admiration a child might hold for a superhero._

"_So what would _you_ wish for, aibou?" the pharaoh prompted at length. Yugi grinned up at him, then glanced down at the Millennium puzzle._

"_I already made a wish, Yami. And it came true a long time ago."_

_

* * *

_

"Yugi…" Yami whimpered to an empty audience. The reality of the situation bore down upon him, and the normally stoic façade that the former pharaoh had maintained for so many years faltered. Overwhelmed by grief, guilt and shame, Yami began to weep bitterly.

"How pathetic," a sinister voice spat from behind the willow. Yami jumped to his feet and spun around, only to lock eyes with the tomb robber.

"What do you want from me?" the pharaoh demanded.

Bakura's lips curled into a wide, disturbing smile.

"I don't ask for much, really. And in lieu of recent events, my proposition might actually interest you."

"I seriously doubt that," Yami retorted.

"Just hear me out, _pharaoh_. It has come to my attention that you really don't have much to live for these days, do you? You failed as a guardian, you were kicked out of your home, and when I stumbled upon you, you were crying like a lost child in the park, of all places. Not very king-like behavior, I'm afraid."

Yami's eyes narrowed. He didn't have the patience for this.

"If you're just going to stand here and ridicule me all night, I will go ahead and ask that you save your breath. I'm not exactly in the mood for your snide remarks."

"That's just it," Bakura continued, the demented grin still planted on his gaunt features. "You're _not_ in the mood, are you? Not in the mood for my jesting, not in the mood to fight back, not in the mood to do much of anything anymore. What I offer is an outlet, pharaoh, eternal escape from your suffering. You can't live like this. You weren't meant to live without Yugi in this place to _begin_ with. If left unchecked, without a lighter half to balance your soul, you will degenerate into the evil, feral mongrel that you were before your precious Yugi resurrected you from your five-thousand-year slumber. Without your hikari, you will go on to inflict pain upon others."

Hopelessness washed over Yami's countenance. The tomb robber, however vile his intentions were, had a valid point.

"What do you suggest I do then?" the former pharaoh questioned meekly. In response, Bakura pulled a rusty dagger from his belt loop.

"Do you know whose dagger this was?" the tomb robber inquired, in an almost playful tone. Yami just shook his head.

"It was my father's. I found it on his person after your army speared him in the heart. For all these years I have waited patiently for the opportunity to use it against _you, _pharaoh. Just think about it: you would never kill yourself; that would be a coward's errand and a waste of precious royal blood. Let _me_ do the dirty work and fulfill my one and only goal in life. I would make it quick, just a swift cut to the jugular, and don't fret, I have spent countless hours sharpening this old blade."

Yami's initial reaction was to mock the tomb robber's failed attempts at misplaced revenge and promptly leave, but he instead took a moment to let Bakura's words take root. Perhaps it _was_ best that he were done away with. His business in the realm of the living seemed to have ended with Yugi's death, and the broken pharaoh wondered himself if he even had the mental constitution to survive without his hikari.

"What of my friends?" Yami responded – a feeble counter. His _only_ counter. "I would not subject them to _two_ losses in such a short amount of time."

"That's awfully presumptuous of you, pharaoh," came Bakura's sneering reply. "They put up with you because of Yugi, but now that he's gone, have any of them even looked you in the eye? Have they visited you? Offered you their comfort? I don't believe that they have. You are, to them, a foreign, strange entity. Your sudden disappearance would neither sadden nor surprise them. Hell, even Yugi's grandfather exiled you from his household. Shows how much they all care about the precious little pharaoh."

Yami lowered his gaze, defeated. A glaze passed over his eyes, and he gave a faint nod in Bakura's direction.

"Very well, tomb robber. Do with me as you wish."

Bakura's eyes lit up in victory. Seeing the broken king before him filled him with a dark, overwhelming joy.

Above all, the tomb robber delighted that the pharaoh would die at his hands, and all because of one carefully constructed lie.


	3. A Thief's Facade

**Where the Dawn Doesn't Break**

**Chapter Three: A Thief's Façade**

"_Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions_

_Oh, let's go back to the start_

_Running in circles, coming up tails_

_Heads on a science apart."_

_

* * *

  
_

It was an hour before the phone call, three days before the memorial service. Yugi was about to leave school with his friends when he got a text message from Ryou. It read, "Hi Yugi, I'm having some problems with Bakura and could really use someone to talk to who understands. If you could meet me on the soccer field, I'd appreciate it. Oh, and please don't tell the others… I'm so embarrassed." Yugi's brow furrowed with genuine concern. His nature would never lead him to abandon a friend in need.

"Hey you guys," Yugi called out to Joey, Anzu, and Honda. "I'll just meet up with you later. There's… a quiz I have to make up."

"What a freakin' book worm," Honda muttered under his breath.

"Honda!" Anzu scoffed, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "How can you make fun of Yugi for being a good student when you're _failing_ all your classes?"

"Geez Anzu, to hear you talk it sounds like you wanna _bang_ little Yug'," Jounouchi chimed in. Anzu's face grew scarlet with anger. Before she could wail on the tactless blond, Yugi took a few steps back and made his exit.

"Uh, well, see you guys later!" the boy sputtered quickly before running in the opposite direction. He stifled a chuckle as he heard the echoing strains of his friends' bickering fade behind him.

Yugi neared the soccer field and was able to spot his white-headed friend immediately. Ryou sat with his back to the gate, sitting eerily still. Only his snowy tresses moved as the wind teased them up and about his face. Yugi approached Ryou and laid a comforting hand on his blue-and-white-striped shirt. The white-headed boy didn't respond.

"Ryou?" Yugi prompted. Ryou's head turned and the dark, narrowed slits that met Yugi's bewildered gaze were not those of his gentle friend.

"Hello little Yugi," the tomb robber muttered slyly. "Surprised to see me here?"

Yugi looked aghast.

"Where's Ryou!?" the boy demanded with clenched fists.

"Oh, he's just fine," Bakura responded with a cynical sneer. "He left school early for a pre-scheduled dentist appointment, of all things. I have been planning our little meeting for a while now. It turns out that public school is the only damn place I can get you all to myself, without the pharaoh following at your heels like a lost puppy."

Yugi narrowed his eyes. He could sense his heartbeat growing quicker; he could feel the blood pounding urgently in his ears.

"Why are you here? What do you _want_ from me?" Yugi questioned feebly, afraid of what the answer might be.

Bakura slowly rose to his feet to face Yugi, the sinister grin still spread across his countenance. He leaned forward until he was inches away from Yugi's face. The cornered boy could feel the tomb robber's shallow breath on his collar. Bakura grabbed the chain of the Millennium Puzzle and jerked Yugi forward until their foreheads were touching. The helpless boy was petrified.

"Fortunately for _you_, little Yugi, what I want is someone else entirely. You're just the bait. You're no more important than a dirty, wriggling little earthworm plucked from the black soil by a hungry fisherman."

At these words, Yugi snapped out of his terrified trance. He refused to let the tomb robber harm his yami. Feeling adrenaline flood his veins, Yugi pushed Bakura back with all of his strength and punched the dark spirit squarely in the jaw. Bakura stumbled backward in shock as a bit of blood trickled from his lower lip. Yugi, feeling empowered, tried to swing again, but this time Bakura swiftly caught the boy's wrist in mid-air. The tomb robber chuckled down at his vulnerable prey.

"Well, well, well," Bakura spat. "It seems that you're a bit more _feisty_ than I remember." With this, the tomb robber lapped up the blood from the corner of his mouth and clicked his tongue as if it had been a delicacy. Yugi's bright eyes widened in horror, and he began to struggle against the tomb robber's hold, to no avail.

"Look at you," Bakura teased, his eyes narrowing threateningly. "You're wriggling around just like the little worm that you are." And with that Bakura forced the poor boy to the ground, his free hand wrapping around Yugi's neck. Yugi sputtered and struggled for air, kicking his legs blindly against his foe. Just before his lungs would have given in from lack of oxygen, Bakura relinquished his grip and regarded the gasping boy with mild amusement.

As Yugi fought for air, the tomb robber grappled in his pockets and pulled out a handkerchief and a bottle with no label. He quickly unscrewed the bottle and emptied its clear contents onto the handkerchief. Then, before Yugi could recover completely from being strangled, Bakura thrust the contaminated cloth over the small boy's face, covering his nose and mouth.

"That's right little one, breath it in," the tomb robber coaxed. Bewildered, Yugi's gasps were stifled by the chloroform, and he found himself slipping away into darkness, the vision of Bakura cackling hysterically burned into the recesses of his memory.

Yugi awoke in a dark room. He had been bound, gagged, and tossed like worthless luggage into what appeared to be a basement. The tired boy struggled against his tethers, but realized, to his terror, that he had been completely immobilized. He lay like that for what seemed like hours, his cheek growing numb against the cold concrete floor, trying in vain to ignore the throbbing pain from his bruised neck. Eventually a door opened from above, shedding a piercing light into the bleary basement. Yugi's eyes, which had grown accustomed to the all-encompassing darkness, snapped shut painfully. When Yugi was finally able to look up, he found himself face-to-face with the tomb robber. Bakura effortlessly plucked his victim's quivering frame from the concrete floor and propped the poor boy unceremoniously against the decaying brick wall. The tomb robber untied the torn rag that had been Yugi's gag and laid it beside him. The young boy immediately spat in his kidnapper's face.

The tomb robber, completely unfazed, wiped the saliva away and glared at Yugi intently.

"I would be on my best behavior, if I were you," Bakura uttered darkly.

"You… you're going to be sorry!" Yugi muttered in a wavering tone. "When my friends get here, there's no telling what they'll do." An uncharacteristically dark smirk planted itself on Yugi's face before he continued. "And Yami, when Yami finds out what you've done… Bakura, _you're_ the one who needs to be on your best behavior."

Bakura was silent for a moment, then he began snickering. Before long he had erupted into peals of diabolical laughter.

"Yugi," Bakura managed between chuckles, "you're precious little pharaoh will come, but not to rescue you."

"What are you talking about?" Yugi demanded, growing concerned.

"You don't exist, Yugi. You were killed in a car accident. Nothing was found save for your belt buckle and the Millennium Puzzle." At this Yugi glanced down frantically to realize that his Puzzle and studded belt were both gone.

"The rest of you burned up in the fire," Bakura continued. "It's amazing what all can be accomplished with money. I bribed a friendly businessman on the street to make the call on a pay phone. He played the part of 'Deputy Carson' to inform your grandfather that you had died. I paid off a cop to deliver the puzzle, buckle and some ash 'from the crash site' to the Kame Game Shop in his squad car, to complete the masterful fabrication. Your memorial service will be in a few days, where a stone dedicated all to you will be placed between the grave plots of your parents. Isn't it sweet?"

Yugi was mortified.

"Wh-why are you doing this?" the boy stammered fearfully.

At this point the tomb robber's playful grin degenerated into a wicked scowl. There was so much loathing behind Bakura's gaze that it threatened to make Yugi pass out.

"I'm doing this," Bakura spat, "in memory of my family, the only people who _ever_ gave a damn about me. I'll let the pharaoh suffer for a few days, let him experience what it's like to feel empty. After your memorial service, I'll corner him. He'll practically _beg_ for me to take his life."

Yugi shook his head fervently.

"That's where you're wrong! Yami would _never _let you… let you…"

"…kill him?" Bakura finished the boy's sentence. "We'll just see about that, Yugi. Tell me, what purpose does a guardian have if his charge is killed? What family does the pharaoh have to go back to? What promise can his future possibly hold? What you misunderstand, little Yugi, is that Yami's time on earth was finished thousands of years ago. You are his only link to society, to reality, to life in general. Imagine how lost he must feel, how painful it must be. Have you ever wondered what it's like to lose half of your soul?"

Yugi's eyes grew wide, and he realized the twisted truth in Bakura's words.

"Do not fret though," the tomb robber interjected in an eerily cheerful voice. "_You _will get to see it all take place, and I'll even set you free after my work is done. And you thought I wasn't generous. You'll have a front-row seat to the event of the century, the death of the timeless King of Games! You'll get to watch as he kneels before me, as I raise the dagger to his throat, as I…"

"NO!" Yugi screamed. "I'll give you anything! I'll do _anything_ for you. Kill me instead, I don't care. If you need blood on your hands so badly just _kill me instead_. I won't struggle, you can do whatever you want to me and…"

"Your offer doesn't interest me, Yugi," Bakura interrupted. "My conflict lies with the pharaoh and he alone. There is nothing you could possibly say or do to prevent me from slitting his pretty little throat. But once I have accomplished my goal, once I have finally slaughtered the pharaoh in the name of my lost village, I feel that I should give something back to compensate. So, in return for the pharaoh's life, I will give _you_ an endearing sense of reality. I will destroy this naïve perception of friendship and righteousness that you cling to so avidly. I want you to watch as the pharaoh's blood spills onto the floor, as he cries out in unimaginable pain, as he sputters and groans, desperate for relief, as he slumps over, twitching, and then I want you to focus, take special notice, of the way the life drains from his eyes. Then, Yugi, you will be a changed man, as I was, aware of how cruel and unfair the real world actually is. This is my gift to you."

Yugi's wrists trembled against the cables that bound them. Silent, petrified tears ran down the boy's pale cheeks. Yugi hated feeling so helpless.

Bakura disappeared upstairs for a moment then returned to Yugi with a glass of water.

"Drink up, my little prisoner. I can't have you dying before the grand show."

Yugi clenched his jaw, but the tomb robber grabbed the boy's wild, crimson hair and forced his head back. As Yugi cried out in pained surprise, Bakura swiftly emptied the glass down the boy's throat. Yugi gulped involuntarily, some of the water finding its way down his windpipe. Once Bakura released his prisoner's hair, Yugi leaned forward to cough and sputter.

The tomb robber walked to a shadowy corner of the room and wheeled out an old television that rested on a dusty, decrepit iron stand.

"_This_ is the screen on which you'll witness your yami's untimely death," Bakura explained, indicating the gray screen with a wave of his hand, as if he were a letter-turner on Wheel of Fortune. "I'll just leave it here for you to _imagine _the atrocities that will befall the pharaoh in a few short days."

Yugi could see the faint outline of his reflection in the foggy glass. He _could _imagine it. He could picture Yami in his head, on his knees, bleeding, crying out for help. It was such a crushing thought that the boy might have accepted death himself, had Bakura offered as much.

"Well, I'm afraid I have other things to attend to. I'll just leave you here to fester. But don't worry, I'll come back intermittently with water, and possibly even bread, if you're good. I can't have you wasting away before your time." At this, Bakura began laughing again, as if he had just told a hilarious joke. He ascended the creaking stairs and left the basement door slightly cracked, allowing a bit of light to trickle into the makeshift dungeon of sorts.

It was just enough light. Just enough for Yugi to see the television screen.

The boy, mortified, trapped, wept for his situation, wept for his chaffed wrists, wept for his empty stomach. But most of all, Yugi wept for the fate of his yami.


	4. Sacrificial Lamb

**Where the Dawn Doesn't Break**

**Chapter Four: Sacrificial Lamb**

"_Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry_

_You don't know how lovely you are_

_I had to find you, tell you I need you_

_Tell you I set you apart."_

_

* * *

  
_

It was night. The only hint of light came from orange street lamps. Yami followed Bakura wordlessly across the park lawn, around a couple of blocks, behind the grocer, down a mile or so. They eventually came upon a decrepit, abandoned old house. The windows were broken, the paint was chipping, and there were holes in the floorboards of the small front porch. Bakura opened the front door and bowed dramatically, ushering the pharaoh inside. Yami gingerly stepped over the inconsistent boards and into the dusty, dark building.

The decaying house opened into a small living room that smelled heavily of mold. Where there wasn't stripped hard wood, there were disgusting remnants of a gray, matted carpet that was riddled with disconcerting stains.

"Here we are, _pharaoh_. Homey, isn't it?" Bakura mused. Yami didn't look up, nor did he respond. He just waited, an emotionless shell anticipating his release from the pain. Bakura grabbed Yami's shoulders tightly and pushed him against a far wall, unsettling flecks of dry paint and rotted wallpaper in the process.

"_This _is where you'll be, just right here."

Yami didn't argue, didn't complain. He just stood there, unblinking, just _waiting._ Bakura turned from the pharaoh and looked to the corner of the room, sneering wildly into the small video camera that he had installed the day before. Its feed ran down to the basement, down to a dusty old television that a bound-and-gagged Yugi Mutou watched in horror.

* * *

Yugi struggled against his restraints, biting down on the canvas strip of cloth that muffled his frantic cries. He watched his yami, petrified at the former pharaoh's behavior. Yami adhered to any command that Bakura gave him, and it was apparent that Yugi's darker half had long since given up on life and relinquished any ounce of hope that he had cradled in his conflicted heart.

Yugi's wrists were bleeding from days of struggling against the hardy cables that tethered them. The tortured boy was crying soundlessly, tears streaming freely down his dirty cheeks. He watched as Bakura backed Yami into the wall. He watched as the tomb robber gave the command, and Yami knelt. He watched as the white-headed thief removed an ancient dagger from his belt loop.

* * *

Bakura stared at his reflection in the blade, and a reminiscent, almost human expression swept across his angular face.

"I am sorry father, for the delay," Bakura whispered before looking down at his prey, a disturbed smile returning to his features.

"Now pharaoh, since I am so generous and fair, I'll go ahead and ask you if there's anything you'd like to say before you die."

Yami was silent.

"Nothing? Surely you must have some gem to bestow upon the world before you pass from this realm. Let me give you some inspiration. Hypothetically speaking, what would you tell little Yugi if he were here? If you could go back and say anything to him, what would it be?"

For the first time since they left the park, Yami looked up from the floor with anguished eyes. He shut them quickly, and a single tear ran down his regal countenance. He made no effort to suppress it.

"I would tell him," the former pharaoh began in a hoarse voice, "that he is everything. He is my family, my confidante, my brother, my most valued friend. I would tell him that there is no other like him, that he is the only pure soul left in a world of apathetic and evil-hearted fools. I would tell him I was deeply sorry that I failed him, and I would beg for his forgiveness. I would tell him that I loved him, and that his company is what I valued most in life."

Yami fell silent. Bakura shot a knowing glance into the small, hidden camera behind him, a wicked, toothy grin set between thin lips.

* * *

Yugi's head swam with a mixture of raw emotion and biting fear. He frantically wriggled, straining against his tethers, eyes wide and apprehensive.

"_I would tell him that I loved him, and that his company is what I valued most in life."_

It was simply too much for Yugi to bear.

"That's so sweet of you, pharaoh," Bakura jeered, tipping Yami's chin up with a pale, boney finger. "It's a shame that he wasn't around to hear your little reverie." Here, the tomb robber had to stifle a laugh, amused at his own clever trick. "However, I'm sure that the two of you will be reunited in the afterlife. Knowing how kind and forgiving little Yugi is, I'm sure he'll look past the fact that you _let him die_."

Yami cringed and his jaw clenched in agony.

"Bakura, just do what we came here to do and be _done_ with it," the pharaoh commanded. Bakura shrugged.

"I hate to cut this play-date short, but as you wish, my _prince_."

Yugi watched as Bakura lowered the dagger to his yami's neck. The trapped boy's heart was racing and threatened to jump out of his chest altogether. He tried to chew through his gag, but the fabric was too thick. He tried to force his wrists from their tethers, but the cables were drawn too tight. Bakura had left no holes in his plot, no room for error.

Yami caught his gaze in the blade of the tarnished dagger. He closed his eyes in preparation.

"Yugi, forgive me…" the former pharaoh whispered.

Yugi wanted to scream. Peals of frantic adrenaline flooded his tiny body. The boy concentrated on his yami, closed his eyes, focused with all of his might. Their mind link had been shattered, but the small boy continued to search, perhaps uselessly, for Yami's mental presence.

Yami could feel the cold blade press against his skin. It was almost over. The pharaoh was not afraid, just regretful. Bakura grabbed Yami's hair and thrust his head back, leaving his skinny neck completely exposed.

Yugi could feel it, a sudden rush of despondence, of hopelessness, tinged with fear. He could sense the underlying power. He had managed to reestablish a faint connection with the former pharaoh.

"This is for my family, you son of a bitch," Bakura spat, increasing his grip on the hilt of the blade, preparing to drag it across Yami's neck.

'YAMI!' Yugi cried through the unstable mind link.

Yami's eyes snapped open, and with one swift motion he grabbed Bakura's hand and forced it away before pinning the tomb robber to the floor by his wrists.

"_WHERE IS HE!?" _Yami demanded, his eyes wild with anger.

"What the _hell_ are you talking about!?" Bakura countered. Yami growled in frustration and gave the tomb robber a swift kick in the stomach before turning to search the house, leaving the dark spirit on the floor, writhing in pain.

Yami entered the next room, a kitchen. He checked the pantry. Empty. He ran to the adjoining dining room. Empty. He stepped out and into a small bedroom. Empty. He retraced his steps, searching frantically for his hikari, and when he found nothing, he began to question his own sanity.

Back in the kitchen, the former pharaoh slumped to his knees and clutched his hair in despair, his nails digging deep into his skull. He took one last look around the small kitchen, riddled with scum and grime. There was a cabinet shoved haphazardly against the wall, the only stick of furniture in the entire cursed house. Thinking it looked suspicious, Yami stood to carefully survey the cabinet. He propped a shoulder against one end of the cheap pine structure and threw his weight against it. As it scooted to the side, the cabinet revealed the door it had been shielding.

Yugi had watched as Yami forced Bakura to the floor before darting out of the room, and he silently prayed that his darker half would be able to find him quickly. He waited, unmoving, with baited breath. The minutes dragged on. The trapped boy felt hope well within him as he heard scuffling from above, followed by the sharp, scraping whine of a heavy cabinet being dragged across a cheap linoleum floor. Yugi's eyes widened with happiness as the basement door opened and he caught Yami's unmistakable silhouette against the dim light of the kitchen.

For a moment Yami just stood there, regarding the sight before him with mixed emotion. Yugi was bruised, dirty, and bleeding in places, but… he was _alive_. Yami rushed down the stairs, almost falling, and fumbled to remove the filthy cloth that served as Yugi's gag.

"Yami! I…"

Yugi was cut off as his darker half drew him close to his chest, holding him tightly, protectively. Yami buried his head in the boy's unruly hair, and was so fraught with happiness that his body racked with sobs. Yugi was moved. He had never seen his yami cry, not once, and he knew how much the former pharaoh prided in his normally stoic and unwavering countenance. To witness Yami break, to witness what the spirit truly felt, was a rare and privileging sight.

Realizing that Yugi was still bound, Yami paused to fumble with the tight, knotted cables, eventually freeing his hikari's bloody wrists and ankles. Yami, unspeaking, shed his jacket and bit down on the corners, ripping off strips of cloth. He subsequently used these as makeshift bandages which he tenderly wrapped about Yugi's wounds. Neither of them spoke, but just cherished each other's company.

Once Yugi's cuts were dressed, Yami drew a hand to his hikari's face, as if to confirm that the boy was real. His quivering palm lowered to Yugi's bruised neck, the purple and green outline of Bakura's hand still visible against his pale skin.

"That unspeakable bastard," the former pharaoh whispered through clenched teeth.

Yugi was about to respond when he saw the feed from the camera break, leaving nothing but snow on the television screen. The shoddy speakers suddenly began to emit a steady, high-pitched whine.

"Yami…" Yugi whispered fearfully. "Where is Bakura?"

Yami slowly climbed to his feet and began to search the darkness.

"Stay behind me," the former pharaoh commanded. Yugi tried to stand, but his weak, shredded ankles refused to support his weight and he collapsed, wincing in pain. Yami swung back around to check on his hikari, but before he could question the pained boy, the basement door slammed shut.

Yami, bewildered, snapped back to his feet. He strained to hear, strained to see, but the darkness was impenetrable. He thought he could hear a scuffle here or there, thought he could sense ragged breathing. When Yami felt the warmth of a presence before him, he clasped his Millennium Puzzle and whispered, "Chase the darkness." The puzzle began to glow, revealing the gaunt, disfigured sneer of the tomb robber, who was only inches away.

Before Yami had time to react, Bakura forcibly drove his father's dagger into Yami's chest, the steel blade narrowly missing the pharaoh's heart. Yami's mouth opened, but no noise escaped. The tomb robber quickly withdrew the blade, and the former pharaoh collapsed in a crumpled heap on the floor, his blood spilling over the cold concrete.

Bakura turned to Yugi. He was not smiling. The playful glint was gone from his eye. The tomb robber grabbed Yugi's collar and lifted him off the ground.

"You almost, _almost_ ruined _everything,_ you grubby little rat."

Bakura rose the dagger again and took a moment to marvel at the crimson fluid that stained the blade. He dropped Yugi and let him fall to the floor, to wonder up at his attacker in horror. The tomb robber stuck out his tongue and licked the dagger from base to tip, rolling Yami's blood around on his tongue before swallowing.

"Delicious," Bakura proclaimed, bringing a finger to his chin in mock contemplation. "It tastes _just_ like revenge."

Bakura knelt before Yugi and chuckled at the boy's petrified stare.

"Are you _shocked_ Yugi? _Afraid_ perhaps? Did you think that your precious pharaoh would _rescue_ you?" Bakura leaned forward as Yugi began to tremble.

"Your pharaoh can't rescue you, Yugi. You're pharaoh's life is spilling onto the floor as we speak. Isn't it ironic? His royal, clean blood adorns the dirty, concrete floor of an abandoned basement. It's funny how the exalted fall from favor."

Yugi let every syllable of Bakura's speech wash over him. He let go of his hope. He let go of his innocence. He looked past the tomb robber at the fallen pharaoh's motionless form, at the pool of blood slowly leaking from his yami's gaping wound, and the former pharaoh's words echoed in the boy's tortured mind:

"_I would tell him… that he is everything."_

Yugi's eyes narrowed.

"_He is my family, my confidante, my brother, my most valued friend."_

The boy ignored the searing pain in his ankles and lurched forward, wrapping his hands around Bakura's neck.

"_I would tell him that there is no other like him, that he is the only pure soul left in a world of apathetic and evil-hearted fools."_

Bakura fought against Yugi's grasp, but the frail boy was fraught with grief and anger, his veins pulsing with a dark determination that he had never known before. He pinned the tomb robber, his knuckles growing white as his grip tightened around the dark spirit's neck.

"_I would tell him I was deeply sorry that I failed him, and I would beg for his forgiveness."_

Bakura's eyes bulged from their sockets, and he began to wheeze through his teeth, as if he were trying to laugh. The golden ring hanging around the tomb robber's neck began to glow, blinding his disgruntled attacker. Yugi retreated, shielding his eyes, and before he had adjusted to the intense light, he felt cold steel against his neck.

"_I would tell him that I loved him, and that his company is what I valued most in life."_

Bakura laughed breathlessly, pressing the dagger against Yugi's throat.

"You are much more trouble than you're _worth_, little Yugi," the thief spat, his yellow eyes flashing as the light from the Millennium Ring retreated.

Bakura's ensuing laughter filled the dark basement, jarring Yugi to the bone and stirring the heart of the fallen pharaoh.

As Yugi sat, trembling, before the cackling form of the tomb robber, Yami drew a ragged breath.


	5. Coming Back As We Are

**Where the Dawn Doesn't Break**

**Chapter Five: Coming Back As We Are**

"_But tell me you love me, come back and haunt me_

_Oh, and I rush to the start_

_Running in circles, chasing our tails_

_Coming back as we are."_

_

* * *

  
_

You've heard the stories, of mothers who lifted cars to free their trapped children after a crash, of physicians who revived lost patients up to an hour after their "death." Sometimes mere humans breach the realm of what should be possible, simply because they are so _driven_, whether it be by personal conviction, obligation, or love alone.

By all laws of physics and science, Yami should have been dead. If not dead, he should have at _least_ been comatose. He had lost so much blood. Yet, even as his heart struggled, even as his body ached for circulation, Yami's crimson eyes fluttered open, alight with determination. He soundlessly drew himself to his knees, and even as he looked down and saw his life force spill from his body, splatter on the tarnished gold of the Millennium Puzzle, and eventually drip from the relic's point onto the floor, he did not fear for his life. He blacked out the ebbing pain and focused all of his energy on Bakura, who had his back turned to him. Yami saw the dagger leveled against Yugi's neck and became oblivious to everything else within and around him. He had already lost his hikari once, and refused to lose Yugi again.

"BAKURA!" Yami bellowed, shakily rising to his feet. He drew a quivering hand over his wound to quell the constant blood loss.

The tomb robber's head snapped around bewilderedly and regarded Yami with wide eyes.

"No," Bakura whispered, "this isn't possible. How are you still alive!? You shouldn't have the _strength_ to stand!"

Yami smirked before diving forward and pulling the tomb robber up by his collar.

"You will _pay dearly_ for what you have done," the former pharaoh uttered, his voice so soft that only Bakura could hear it.

Yami swung at Bakura's face, which was still contorted in shock. The tomb robber went flying back and squarely hit the wall behind him. While the murderous thief recuperated from the crippling blow, Yami addressed Yugi directly.

"Turn your head, aibou, and try not to judge me harshly."

Yugi nodded. For once, he understood.

Yami focused his glare on the quivering form of the tomb robber and an uncharacteristic sneer spread across his regal countenance.

"It's funny how the tables turn, isn't it, tomb robber?"

"You don't have the balls, pharaoh."

Yami raised his eyebrows at this comment.

"Oh?" the former pharaoh teased. "I don't have the balls for what?"

"To kill me," responded the tomb robber. "I don't believe you'll do it."

Yami knelt so that he was on Bakura's level. He snatched the dagger from the tomb robber's lax grip and marveled at his own blood, still wet on the blade.

"I didn't kill your family, you know. I still don't understand why you choose to cling to that lie. Perhaps you needed someone to take your frustrations out on, and I just happened to be an easy target."

Bakura clenched his teeth.

"You know," Yami continued, rotating the hilt over and over in his steady palm, "you spoke earlier of 'irony.' How ironic would it be if I killed _you_ with the same blade you intended to kill _me _with?"

Bakura said nothing. Yami leaned forward until he was mere centimeters away from the tomb robber's face.

"Before you were going to kill me, you pitted me through a mental hell. You brought out my thoughts and my darkest regrets and forced them to the surface, just so I would be universally anguished when you dragged that blade across my neck."

Yami held the dagger up to the tomb robber's jugular. Bakura's breathing became haggard, his chest heaving, his nostrils flaring.

"I want you to feel the same way _I _felt," Yami jeered. "I want you to be hopeless, to feel like a _failure_. So I invite you now to picture your village as it lit up in flame, as the dirty thieves who populated that shit-stain of a community dropped like the flies that they were. I want you to see your father's face, slightly blackened, eyes wide open, but _lifeless_. I want you to reflect on these five thousand long years of struggle, of all the numerous opportunities you had to avenge your fallen family, yet you still couldn't do it. You couldn't give them justice. You couldn't honor their memory. You _failed_ in your only purpose, your solitary goal."

Bakura's eyes snapped shut. He was shuddering now. His throat constricted, and as much as he willed himself to be strong, he couldn't help but picture his father's cadaver in his mind, how it was stiff and smelled of burning flesh, how he had died with his only valuable possession clutched in his hand – the very dagger that was now held to the tomb robber's throat.

Bakura swallowed hard.

"_This_ is for my hikari, you son of a bitch," Yami spat. He didn't hesitate in slicing the tomb robber's jugular, and never flinched as spurts of blood shot up at his face. Yami pinned Bakura's convulsing form against the wall and whispered in his ear, "This is still too good for you." With that, the Sennen Eye appeared on the former pharaoh's head and he banished Bakura's soul to eternal suffering in the Shadow Realm, to exist in never-ending pain as he neither recovered from the gaping cut in his throat nor died from it. He was bound to cry out in anguish for innumerable millennia, trapped, as Yugi was, in a dark void where the dawn doesn't break.

As the light faded, Bakura's empty body was still and his eyes were gray and unseeing.

His goal accomplished, Yami became aware of the searing pain within his chest. His knees betrayed him and buckled, and he dropped to the ground.

"It is done, aibou," Yami affirmed breathlessly. Yugi opened his eyes and crawled over to his fading yami. The boy cradled the pharaoh's head in his hands and watched with horror as the spirit's eyes slowly closed shut.

"YAMI!" Yugi cried, shaking the former pharaoh's limp body back and forth, desperate for a response.

Yami, void of any remaining strength, retreated into the welcoming darkness, content to know that Yugi was alive and safe.

* * *

_Beep…beep…beep…beep…_

Yami could hear a steady beeping that seemed even with his heart. A soft voice was muttering to him, but he only comprehended bits and pieces.

"…_to wake up…_

…_can't make it without…_

…_don't know what I'd…_

…_Yami…"_

Sensation returned to his skin. He could feel the sting of an IV in his forearm. He felt the cool, thin sheet on his torso. He felt the throbbing pain in his chest. He felt a soft and familiar hand clutching his own.

Yami winced and willed himself to wake. His eyes fluttered open and the world around him slowly came into focus.

"Yami!" Yugi acknowledged happily before gently wrapping his arms around the former pharaoh's neck.

"You saved me, partner," the boy whispered. Yami smiled and tenderly pulled his hikari away so he could look him in the eyes.

"Actually, as I recall aibou, _you _saved _me_ first."

Yugi chuckled and reclined in the stiff hospital chair. His eyes softened as they met Yami's crimson irises. He had feared that he would never see those scarlet orbs again.

"So how the hell did I get here?" Yami prompted at length. Yugi heaved a tired sigh.

"Well," the boy began, "I managed to carry you up the stairs and got you outside. From there it was just a matter of flagging someone down who could help us. There was this girl on the street who called 911 from her cell phone, and an ambulance came to take us away. After my cuts were properly bandaged and you were stabilized, I gave the medical personnel our information, and they called grandpa. He was pretty shaken up over it all. He didn't believe them at first, and was actually yelling at them over the phone, until I snatched the receiver away and talked to him myself. He lost it, Yami. He got over here _so_ fast, and he just kept hugging me and crying on my shoulder. I appreciated the sentiment, but I was just so exhausted…"

"Anyway, gramps eventually called our friends, and they all freaked out over me. They've since gone home, but I refused to leave…"

Yami smiled warmly up at his charge.

"I appreciate it, aibou. How long was I asleep?"

"Three long days," the tired boy responded. "You can't imagine how worried I was."

Yami smirked and shot his hikari a skeptical glance.

"I'm sure I can," the former pharaoh replied.

* * *

Once his physician confirmed that it was safe for him to go home, Yami was escorted outside in a wheelchair, much to his dismay. It was hospital protocol, but _he_ only saw it as being demeaning. Yugi seemed completely unfazed, however. He pushed the wheelchair and its agitated burden about cheerily, occasionally doing wheelies whenever he was sure a nurse wasn't watching. Yami was elated to finally arrive outside, where he was allowed to walk the five feet from the chair to the back seat of Solomon's car. Yugi chuckled as the former pharaoh swiftly rose from the wheelchair, checked all around him to confirm that no one had seen him in it to begin with, then strode with all of the pride of an emperor over to the elder Mutou's '89 Camry that was rusted through in spots.

Once they all arrived back at the Kame Game Shop, Yami recalled a certain ebony statue that he had completed just before the whole mess had begun. The former pharaoh cut in front of Yugi and darted up the stairs in mock urgency. Yugi smirked and playfully followed at his darker half's heels. When Yugi exploded into his room, he saw Yami standing there innocently with his arms behind his back.

"What are you hiding?" Yugi prompted. Yami put on a look of fake confusion and shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the former pharaoh responded. Yugi tried to duck behind his yami to glimpse the ever-elusive item, but the quick-witted pharaoh expertly stepped back and forth and around his hikari, drawing it out as long as he could bear.

"Mou hitori no bokuuu!" Yugi whined, collapsing on his bed in defeat.

Yami chuckled bemusedly and leaned forward.

"Yugi, I couldn't possibly give this to you unless you said the magic word."

It was times like this when Yugi regretted ever sharing cliché old-sayings with his darker half.

"Seriously, Yami?"

Yami's eyes narrowed playfully. Yugi sighed and muttered, "Please…"

The former pharaoh straightened himself and offered the relic to Yugi proudly.

"I carved it for you, aibou, before the whole incident with the tomb robber. I had feared you would never receive it," Yami explained with a sad smile. Yugi gently lifted the small statue from the pharaoh's hands and regarded it with awe.

"Anubis…" Yugi whispered in realization. He ran a finger over the expertly chiseled rivets that denoted the hieroglyph-ridden robe. He felt the tiny claws and the hollowed-out circles that served as the god's pupils. For a moment, Yugi was silent. Then he looked up at Yami with teary eyes.

Yugi rose and embraced the former pharaoh in a tight hug.

"Thank you so much Yami, it's beautiful," Yugi muttered. "I really don't know what I would do without you."

"I can certainly say the same for you, aibou," Yami replied, returning the embrace.

"_All our lives we search for someone who makes us complete. We choose partners and change partners. We dance the song of heartbreak and hope all the while, wondering if somewhere, somehow there is someone searching for us." - Unknown_

**-FIN-**

**

* * *

  
**

The quotes at the beginning of each chapter are excerpts from the song "The Scientist" by Coldplay.

Kazuki Takahashi owns the Yu-gi-oh franchise, and absolutely no copyright infringement is intended within this story.

Now that _that's _out of the way, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed, specifically **Phobias Athena**, **XxSkyexBluexX**, and **Shamise** for being so consistent. I don't write Yaoi (no offense toward the genre, just not my thing), so it's hard sometimes to draw interest from this fandom. I really appreciate anyone who took the time to read this piece, as I spent many hours on it and was more consistent with updates than I have been with any fanfic EVER. :O

Also, if you like this sort of writing, I invite you to join my C2. So far I only have one staff member (not including myself), and it definitely needs some work. The community is called A Break From the Monotony, and it focuses on stories with developed plotlines that are more substantial than "drabbles" or "smuts." Yaoi and all of that is more than welcome, so long as there _is _an involving plot. If you're interested at all or have any questions, please feel free to send a PM my way. I'll take a look at your work, and odds are you'll be added to the staff list in no time. :D

Finally, I'm bored a lot (especially now since my SO is watching football), so if you'd ever like to chat, my AIM is pengupuff. Hit me up!

Thanks again, everyone! ^_^


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